Cognoscente
by Nymbis
Summary: He can‘t touch what was never his. But for an artist, observation will do just as well. Serena x Zahi, some minor Serena x Stanton and Zahi x Morgan. Winner of Best Multichaptered Romance, DotM Awards 08.
1. 1

**Cognoscente**

**AN: **This story is for _LovelyPriestess, _who loves this pairing J Hope I did an okay job. Set after book two, so Zahi is a normal teenager. Not a oneshot! Le gasp!

**Disclaimer: **Do I need to do these? I mean, I obviously don't own the series, for writing fanfic for your own work would be the pinnacle of stupidity.

**Cognoscente: **_people who have a refined and superior knowledge of a subject, especially the arts _

He knows that this will only hurt him in the end. That this was a ridiculous fixation, a moronic idea, and an even worse execution. He knows that she is all but oblivious to him now, and that he's far too much of a coward to initiate a social interaction.

Calloused, grimy hands covered with a thin layer of charcoal and fingerless gloves dance across a grainy page, shadings beginning to metamorphosis into full-fledged lines, lines beginning to form a distinctive shape. He muses absently as he colors in a darkened spot that shadows cannot exist without light to shine on them. There is no noise, only the scratching, smoothing, and occasional grunt of frustration when a part of the sketch does not agree with the mental image that he holds in his mind.

It's a nice enough day outside, and Zahi has skipped his classes for the afternoon to sit underneath a tree in the school's courtyard. He goes ignored, for the most part, as he's an advanced student with a superior intellect. Existence for over eight hundred years will do that to a guy. He pauses from his ferocious drawing for a moment to flex his cramping fingers and to straighten the dark wool scarf around his neck, tossing his head slightly to clear his vision of the stray brown hairs that had obstructed it.

He stares down at the drawing, and realizes suddenly that it seems complete. It doesn't match what he had wanted to accomplish, but all the same it's finished. His expectations nearly never match up with the results, anyways. He sighs under his breath, a long drawl, and disappointment is evident on his angular, handsome features.

There is only one person in his sketch, and he has this empty feeling inside that demands there be two.

Frustrated, Zahi tears off the page with perhaps a little more force than necessary, and crumples the sketch into a ball, lazily tossing it at a wastebasket a few feet away. It misses, riding the edge before falling off onto the ground. Not having enough desire to go and place it in the basket, he ignores it and tries to focus his mind on something else, a different inspiration for art.

However, after nearly an hour of trying to shade landscapes, Zahi admits that there is only one subject he's truly interested in drawing.

He knew this was going to hurt him in the end.

The bell dismissing class rings, and Zahi reluctantly picks up his supplies. Silently, he retreats from the courtyard, hoping to avoid a certain incessant blonde teenager and wishing to have a certain dark haired beauty stop avoiding him.

OoO

The thin, metal door to Serena's locker snapped shut with a barely audible twang as she awkwardly balanced her books in her arms, trying to navigate them towards her messenger bag before they spilled out in a tsunami of trigonometry worksheets. The hallways are practically deserted, she had just finished with cello practice in the school's orchestra pit, and every movement she made seemed to have an unnatural echo to it. She smirked, a year ago, this would have been an uneasy environment, now it was hardly even worth a second's tension.

She began to preoccupy herself with systematically filing her textbooks into her increasingly heavy bag, sighing slightly as she felt it sag and tug harshly on her left shoulder. After she had adjusted the weight comfortably, she walked towards the school's exits, knowing that Collin, or even better, Stanton would be outside waiting to pick her up.

Her mind then began to drift as she stared at the ground absently, watching as her tall combat boots clomped against the polished linoleum of the school's floor. Slightly distracted, she didn't even register a second set of footsteps in the hall until her bag roughly connected with some poor unfortunate's stomach. Startled out of her thoughts, Serena immediately began listing off an apology, but it fell short when she noticed who exactly it was that she had literally run into.

Zahi stood not even a foot away from her, looking too shocked for words. His coffee colored eyes were trained on the bag that had just harshly rammed him, trying desperately to think of something, _anything _to say. Dumbly, his eyes looked up and met the entrancing viridian of Serena's.

Serena stared at him, also floundering in the speech department. Zahi, having lost the influence of the Atrox over him, was now more of a reclusive boy than his previous persona. A faded black jacket hung around his thinner shoulders, a frayed scarf tucked around his neck and his dark jeans sported a few holes around the knees. A large sketchbook was tucked under his arm. She always had a difficult time reconciling the current image of Zahi with the manipulate bastard of the past. He seemed so much more…fragile, now. Awkward, even.

"Um, hi," She stated brilliantly at last, nervously shifting from foot to foot, "Sorry." She apologized earnestly.

He blinked, amazed that she had decided to talk to him, he cleared his throat, "_Du rien,"_ He said, struggling to battle the conflicting desires within him. He had been a mind manipulator extraordinaire, but he was finding it difficult just to connect with another teenager in a normal way. Zahi had been an Immortal sentry of the Atrox for years, but a young man with a crush for only a devastatingly short amount of time.

"So-"

"_Comment_-"

Both of them fell silent, a few uncomfortable chuckles given when they both started to speak at the same time. Serena, finally deciding that she had to get going, it was getting late and her brother would freak out soon, cleared her throat.

"It was nice seeing you again," She somewhat lied, walking forward a few steps and out towards the door.

Zahi's eyes widened as he realized that as quickly as she had reentered his life, she was exiting. He swore inwardly with his extensive, tri-lingual vocabulary, and was about to go after her when he stopped in his steps. If he went after her, what would come next? He didn't know, and the possible outcomes were displeasing.

Zahi sighed despondently and continued to do what he did best. He observed her from a safe distance as she went on with her life.

OoO

Serena cut through the school's courtyard as she made her way through, and gave a gasp of surprise as her foot stomped on the untied shoelace of her other boot. Since she was in mid-step, the momentum pitched her forward, and she almost face planted against the concrete walkway. Luckily, she was able to correct her balance quickly, and avoiding a painful, and quite frankly embarrassing, trip. After the close brush with a potential concussion, she halted her walk and crouched down on one knee, nimble fingers quickly tying the loose shoestring.

When she was down, her eyes caught a crumpled wad of paper out of the corner of her stare. Shaking her head silently to herself and grumbling inwardly about lazy people not being able to throw away their own trash, she picked up the paper and was about to toss it in the wastebasket when someone grabbed her shoulder.

Startled, she swerved, her fists brought up eyelevel, and exhaled, "Collin?" She demanded in astonishment, paper in her hand still, "You scared me."

Serena's older brother stood there, rolling his eyes as he tapped the faceplate of his wristwatch for emphasis, "You said to come pick you up half an hour ago," He said crossly, obviously not pleased with being delayed.

Serena cringed, "Sorry-"

Collin looked at the wad of paper, "What's that?"

Serena seemed confused, then followed his gaze to the litter, "Nothing-"

Yet again her brother cut her off, as he grabbed the paper out of her hand, his inner protective-older-brother control leading him to believe it was some sort of sordid love note, bad grade, or something that would provide equally tasty blackmail opportunities. When he smoothed it out, he sighed- nothing controversial, unfortunately, and handed it back to her.

"I didn't know you were in art, Serena." He said by way of compliment.

Serena's eyebrows screwed together in confusion, "I'm not," She mumbled, looking down at the scrap in her hands. Her eyes widened in puzzlement.

"Well, maybe you should take some courses," Collin suggested as he started to head off towards the exit, "Because that's a pretty good self-portrait."

Serena's mouth hung open slightly as she stared at a mirror image of her profile on the crushed paper.

**OoO**

Reviews make me write faster. Proven fact. : )

!nym!


	2. 2

_Cognoscente_

**2.**

"…_an artist must surrender to her work."_

Nimble fingers danced across the thick strings as a melodic, full tone filtered through the air. Eyes were lightly shut as a head tilted to the side, the other hand drawing a bow against the larger portion of the huge string instrument. The sound was haunting and warm at the same time, deep pitches resonating in the stage area of the school where the girl sat practicing. Her palm arched upwards as she went into an arpeggio, a rapid succession of notes filling the air pleasantly.

A strict, but somehow benevolent voice murmured in approval, "I see you're finally beginning to practice more," Came the Russian-tinged voice of Serena's cello instructor, Bella.

Serena almost blushed; approval from her dictator of a music instructor was like finding a nugget of gold amidst an entire landfill of sewage, "Thanks." She said good naturedly, abruptly ceasing the song by pressing the bow flatly against the strings and muting the noise.

Bella nodded, "I don't know what it is, but ever since our session a few months ago, it's as if you've become completely inspired."

The telepathic goddess bit the inside of her cheek nervously, knowing what brought about such a transition in her dedication as a cellist. Zahi. Well, not exactly Zahi, but the entire ordeal and the almost transformation into a goddess of the witches. The experience had opened her eyes, and had made her want to recapture her original dreams and goals for herself. The principle one, of course, was becoming a cellist for a renowned orchestra. To reach this, she needed to put more focus onto her music, and she found an intense motivation rekindled in her.

Absently, memories of playing in her kitchen with a dark figure watching and listening appreciatively filtered into her mind. Serena shook her head; the recollections of Zahi from their brief moments together were false- projections made into her mind in order to build up a misleading sense of trust. The Zahi that had complimented her on her playing once upon a time was not the same Zahi now- the reclusive, shy, nervous, handsome boy that she rarely saw.

Serena's thought process snagged, why was she even thinking about him? Months after she had freed him from the Atrox's influence, no less?

She knew why.

Groaning inwardly, she discovered that playing the cello _always _brought up memories of Zahi. He was the only one who seemed to truly appreciate her playing, even if it was a façade the entire time. Her dad, Collin, and Stanton had encouraged her, which she appreciated, but they didn't understand the effort or emotion that she poured into her music. Zahi's words had come from a similar perspective, someone who understood art and what it meant to be skilled in a specific area.

"_It is you," he whispered, his voice solemn. She felt as if he were talking to her from a very deep place inside himself that he seldom shared. "The cello is only wood and a bow. You are the real instrument. It is your deep emotion that I hear when you play."_

Serena rolled her eyes and started to gingerly lay her cello in its case. So Zahi was a bit more introspectively inclined than the other people in her life, big deal. The fact that he could relate to her passion for music didn't deserve as much credit as she was giving him. It was nice, but not a crucial factor.

Bella eyed her student as she seemed to be lost in a myriad of thought, her hands slamming shut the clasps with a bit more gusto than entirely necessary, "Who's the boy?" She asked simply as she filed the sheet music into a folder.

Serena almost choked to death on her own spit, that's how deep in thought she was, "Sorry?" She mumbled apologetically.

Bella gave a smile, making her aged face seem a few years younger, "It doesn't matter," She said, Serena not missing the coy note despite the thick accent in her tone, "Although I'm pleased to see that you are pushing away distractions until _after _practice."

Serena stammered, not liking this inquisitive side to her teacher one bit, "I'm not distracted." She protested, "Just…thinking."

The older woman's eyebrows rose, but she said nothing, placing the folder into a satchel, and beginning to walk off, "I will see you here on Monday, correct?"

Serena nodded dumbly.

"Very good." Bella said crisply, exiting the auditorium quickly.

As soon as she had left, the telepath sagged into a chair, with horrible posture just to spite the absent Russian. She wasn't distracted, simply confused. She was intelligent enough to draw the correlation between her portrait and the artistic ability of certain ex Immortal goat-punk leaders, but she wasn't sure of the motivation behind it. Was it made for a sign of gratitude? That would make the most sense, seeing that Zahi had expressed a stammered desire for apology after they had seen each other after his second _Frigidus Ignis _ceremony. But then why was it near the trash? Maybe it wasn't by him, after all?

Clearly annoyed, Serena abandoned her line of thinking entirely, looking at the clock that hung above the opposite wall. It was almost five on Friday night, and she had a date with Stanton.

A small smile crawled on Serena's face when she thought of the handsome blond. Despite their differences, like his unfortunate tendencies to crave stolen hope and her whole destiny thing, they were still braving the storm that was their chaotic affair. Things were decent between them, and they were working on maintaining a stable relationship- a normal one that included the luxuries such as a common dinner date.

Serena hauled up her case with a degree of difficulty, cellos weren't exactly known for their slim maneuvering capabilities, and she started to leave. As she walked out, Serena didn't realize that her entire cello session had been heard by an appreciative audience of one.

OoO

"Please go away," Zahi murmured the next day as he sat under his favorite tree, thumbing through a Shakespearean anthology that had been assigned for his literature class. Inwardly, he complained about how modern translations had gotten the stories _all _off. _Romeo and Juliet_ was taken as a romance in this era? _Please._

"You know you love me," Came a honeyed, and unwelcome, voice to his side, as Morgan settled herself down softly next to him. She was far too close for comfort, and Zahi decided to articulate this effectively.

"Go away now," He said eloquently, giving up on the plays as the book snapped shut in his grasp.

Morgan's pretty features twisted into a sneer for a fraction of a second, before resettling back into a playful grin, "What's the matter, Zahi? Too tempting?"

"Too smothering," He grumbled under his breath, before saying louder, "I'm not interested in whatever it is that you are offering me, Morgan."

"Are you sure you know what I'm offering?" She countered, the he-goat amulet he had given to her months ago glistening in the sunlight around her neck.

"I have no interest," He said bluntly, "Your talents would best serve you elsewhere."

He was surprised that his reaction only seemed to encourage her, as she laughed, tossing perfect hair over her equally perfect shoulder, "I always liked the guys who were tougher to crack." She said, winking and pouting her lips slightly.

Zahi sighed, "There's a difference between playing hard to get and irritation."

She shook her head, her face still all smiles, "We both know that it isn't complete irritation, otherwise you wouldn't have spent all that effort to get me crossed over."

Zahi pressed fingertips to his temples and tried to quell the swell of an outburst forming on the tip of his tongue, "Morgan, I apologize for my previous actions, but you need to understand that at the time you were simply a means to an end."

Morgan's azure eyes glinted dangerously, "You've said that before, that I was just a pawn to get to the oh-so special _Serena,_" The name couldn't have been more poisonous to her if it were a venomous snake, "Fine. I can accept that."

Zahi's stare widened in befuddlement, "Then why-?"

"Because I know what- _who- _you still want, Atrox or no." She said, leaning over so that her lips were almost touching the shell of his ear, "And I'm perfectly fine with being a pawn again."

The boy struggled with a response, but there wasn't a need for one as the beautiful girl stood up abruptly, and began to walk away, calling back to him over her shoulder.

"When reality hits, and you find out that she doesn't want you, maybe you'll start to look for a better alternative." She offered, another alluring smile flashed at him.

Zahi could only sit there, shocked, as the girl walked away, his fingers absently rubbing his ear.

**OoO**

_Italics _are lines from Book Two.

There is some Serena x Stanton and Zahi x Morgan action, but those will **not **be the main couples for the story. I'm trying not to totally massacre the books with this story, meaning I have to accept that certain people are involved with other certain people. Bummer, eh?

Thanks for reading and **MEGA AWESOME **thanks if you reviewed .

!nym!


	3. 3

_Cognoscente_

_AN: _I have used the cliché of having a _Romeo and Juliet _scene, but I did it a little bit different so I hope it's not totally boring. It's kind of a cynical take on the play. Not a very popular view, but I stand by it anyway.

**3.**

Zahi was beginning to discover that on the whole, he didn't care for people very much. He had been alive for over eight centuries, had been a nobleman Berbir, a French merchant, and had even served a stint as a pirate, yet the sights before him baffled him completely.

What had the teacher coined it?

Oh, yes. A 'group project'.

Edgily, Zahi stared down the group of lazy, seemingly dimwitted children from his corner of the table, evaluating them and assessing potential levels of intelligence. He was grossly disappointed.

"So then, Kaleb totally stood me up!" Proclaimed some blonde, glassy eyed girl to her friend, an equally glassy eyed brunette.

"Oh my god, what an _ass,_" The brunette whispered 'ass' harshly, which sort of defeated the purpose of whispering to begin with, "What did Jez think?"

"She was totally pissed," Zahi wondered if the 'totallys' were entirely necessary, "But then she called Mickey, who called Hannah, who texted Logan-"

Zahi shook his head, their conversation too hard to follow even if he was still a telepath. He turned and faced the other member of his assigned group for the instruction, a dirty, haggard looking boy who referred to himself as 'Toke' even though his name was, in fact, Sheldon.

"What are we supposed to be doing?" He asked crisply, gesturing to the charcoals that were spread across the work table of the art class.

Toke shrugged, "Whatever."

Zahi's eyebrows furrowed, "I see."

If children were the future, Zahi was most certainly not looking forward to it.

"Alright shut up," Came the voice of their art instructor, Mr. Sanz. Sanz was a heavy set, balding man who seemed to sweat profusely from his forehead. Large, protruding eyes were obscured by thick lenses and made him look like a perpetually angry bull frog. "You've had enough time to discuss with your group members the assignment, so by now you should know what your topic is-"

Zahi hesitated, then exhaled slowly. _What the hell_, "Mr. Sanz?" He interrupted politely.

The bulging eyes focused on him, "Yes, Mr. Semblant?"

"For clarification, what is the assignment again?" Zahi questioned carefully.

Mr. Sanz glared at the boy, then sighed. _Foreigners_, he thought darkly, despite himself being a second generation immigrant, "The project, which I may add for you _sleeping children,_" At this, a few heads jerked up sluggishly, "Constitutes a rather heavy portion of your grade, is to find a source of inspiration- more specifically a catalyst for some major event in your life. It can be symbolic, or literal. The main point is to exercise using different mediums and to focus on your choice of either impressionism or abstraction." Mr. Sanz then grumbled under his breath, "Though I doubt most of you could handle simple two point perspective."

A hand shot up in the air, the one belonging to the glassy eyed blonde Zahi noticed, "Can we do photographs instead?"

Mr. Sanz grit his teeth, "This is a drawing course, Ms. Tournier."

The blonde blinked, obviously still not getting it, but deciding to shut up anyways.

The bell echoed through the room, and Mr. Sanz swore under his breath, not pleased with being interrupted. "I expect all of you to be ready to share your subjects by Wednesday." He called out as the students bolted to the door.

Zahi was more hesitant to leave the classroom, picking his books up gingerly and stacking them meticulously slow before tucking them under his arm. His thoughts turned towards the assignment. A catalyst for a major event in his life? What life? Zahi's entire history had been a sham. A time dictated by some outside source that had left Zahi a bystander in his own existence. It was only recently that he had been able to establish any sort of purpose at all, and it was almost ridiculous that such a menial thing was a comparative obstacle for Zahi.

He sighed as he started to exit the room. He knew what, _who_, he could draw. But he also knew that it was improbable, if not impossible. Serena had her own life before him, wanted her own life with him around, and it was highly unlikely that she would want to cooperate for a school project.

Zahi caught his rant. He supposed he was being unfair. There was no reason for Serena to want to associate with him now, in fact if he had been on the receiving end of his past actions, he wouldn't want to help himself either. She was perfectly justified in being uneasy around him, of wanting to keep her distance. What's worse, is that Zahi knew he should be doing the same. He should remove himself from Serena and anything that connected him to his damnable past.

But the problem was that he couldn't. His thoughts always raced back to the unique girl with the warm smile. The memories of her blushing, playing the cello, and kissing him would constantly resurface and leave an unpleasant ache in the pit of his stomach. Worse, was that Zahi realized that those memories were not even his. They belonged to his darker side, the alter ego that had dominated him for the past eight hundred years. Who he was now was not who he was then. The Zahi that Serena liked, if that were even the correct term for it, was dead and gone. Extinguished with the Cold Fire that had given birth to him.

Zahi, Atrox-free Zahi, should not be having these feelings for his unlikely savoir. They went beyond gratitude, into a territory unknown and frightening to the ancient boy. His hands still sketched her pictures, his ears still desired to hear her music. It was as wonderful as it was painful, attending the same school as the girl he had almost destroyed and seeing her everyday.

…it was all terribly unfair.

Especially since she was spoken for.

He found it all cruelly ironic. Now that he was free from the Atrox, he had become more of a shadow than he had ever been before.

Zahi decided to head towards the library, perhaps an art book would provide him with some alternatives?

OoO

Serena chewed thoughtfully on a sandwich that she had snuck in as she sat alone in the library. A spiral notebook with some absent minded doodles scrawled on it lay before her, and in her hands was a beaten copy of some Shakespeare anthologies. Her literature teacher had assigned the class to read through _Romeo and Juliet _in order to write an essay on the character developments throughout the play. Serena grimaced, she was a genius when it came to math, science, or music, but throw a book at her and she was completely lost.

Sighing, she flipped a page and tried to reread the balcony scene. So there was this man in love with a fourteen year old, and their families hated each other. She smirked slightly, _Tough break._ She knew how the story ended- who didn't?- so it kind of cheapened the effect of actually reading through it. Serena wasn't lost to the parallel of the play and her own relationship with Stanton, and it made something nervously twitch in her stomach.

Serena finished her lunch and tried to discretely toss it over her shoulder into the trash behind her, it missed, and bounced off someone's brunette head instead. Immediately turning around, "I'm sorry-"

Her jaw dropped when she realized who she had hit. "We've _got _to stop bumping into each other like this," She said dryly to cover up her shock. Really, twice in three days?!

Zahi slowly blinked, as if not processing who had just clocked him in the head with a wadded up ball of wax paper, "_Salut,_" He muttered flatly, extending his hand which held the trash, "This is yours?"

Serena blushed, and then quickly tried to repress the action, "Thanks." She mumbled, "Didn't mean to hit you with it."

An uncomfortable silence followed as the two teenagers' glances darted around anywhere but each other.

"Do you like it?" Zahi finally ventured shakily.

Serena's eyebrows rose in confusion, "Like what?"

Zahi gestured to the dog-eared paperback on the table, "I assume you're reading _Romeo and Juliet _as well?"

"Oh," Serena said, deciding to continue the conversation as she didn't know what else to do, "To be honest, I'm having issues with it. I only see a romance in it, I don't understand all this intricate plot and development that my teacher's been rambling on about."

Zahi seemed to be having an inward mental battle, before he quietly offered, "Do you need any help?"

The telepath worried her lower lip between her teeth. It was an innocent question, and she hated herself for being so jumpy around the _ex_-Follower. She, having witnessed Stanton's almost complete transformation from _Invitus _to Prince of the Night, knew more than anyone else how the Atrox corrupted innocent souls. Zahi wasn't _the _Zahi, he was just an uncomfortable teenager now. There wasn't anything to fear, per se. And she really could use an extra opinion on the play.

Still, she was a bit more guarded than usual when she said, "Sure, why not?"

Zahi gave a nervous smile, and Serena discovered that it lit his face up rather handsomely, a flicker of the boy she used to have a crush on shining through, "First of all, it's not really a romance."

Serena almost laughed, "Right. _Romeo and Juliet _isn't a romance," She said dismissively.

Zahi shook his head, "Really, it's not."

She was, despite herself, a bit intrigued, "Oh yeah? What makes you say that?"

The boy cleared his throat, "Both of them are deluding themselves into thinking it's love, there's really nothing there despite some hormones and a desire to escape oppressive social standards." He paused, "Juliet convinces herself that she's in love with Romeo because it's a safer bet."

Serena interrupted, "That doesn't make any sense. Why would falling in love with her family's mortal enemy be a safer bet?"

"Because if not, she has to marry Paris, the suitor her father chose for her. A suitor that only wants to use Juliet and doesn't love her at all," Zahi shrugged, "A fake love is better than no love at all, don't you think?"

"What about Romeo, then? He seemed genuine."

Zahi chuckled slightly, a deep sound that echoed throughout the otherwise quiet library, "At the beginning of the play Romeo thought he was desperately in love with someone else, he was pinning over an entirely different girl." Zahi paused, noticing that he had Serena's undivided attention for once and not sure whether to be pleased or terrified, "Then he forgets all about her and is suddenly entirely devoted to Juliet? Seems a little, how would you say… 'flaky', to me."

Serena was quiet, digesting this, "But they die for each other in the end."

"I think it's meant to be symbolic," Zahi offered, "Juliet sees Romeo dead, her only hope of escape from her overbearing world, and realizes that there's no way out- save for one. Romeo, at the end of the play, is now a murderer and an exile. He's completely ostracized himself from his own family, so Juliet was the only one still left that cared for him at all, even if he was just a last resort. They didn't die for love, they died for rather selfish reasons."

Silence yet again encompassed the room, and Zahi coughed into his hand, "Did that help?" He ventured timidly.

Serena still mulled Zahi's interpretation in her mind, before the smallest of smiles crossed her face, "Yeah, I think it did." She paused, "Thank you."

A look of contentment crossed Zahi's face, and he muttered a soft, "It was nothing," As Serena turned back to her homework, now scribbling ferociously on the notebook.

A few moments passed, and Zahi watched her placidly as she worked, the slight furrow of her brows and the tug of a frown at her lips speaking of her concentration as she completely absorbed herself in her assignment. Quietly, he drew out some paper and started to draw her face's outlines on his paper with a pencil.

After all, he had just helped her with her homework, she should help him with his.

**OoO**

Zahi's last name was made up by me. It's French, even though it is implied that Zahi originated from Morocco, so it should be an Arabic or Berbir name instead. But think of it as a pseudonym. Yay for pseudonyms! It means to pretend. My creativity surely knows no bounds /sarcasm.


	4. 4

_Cognoscente_

_AN: _Sorry, long time no update. Heh, oopsie poopsie. As an apology, this story actually has a **plot **now. Ooo, **plot.**

**4. **

Serena's hands shook violently around her porcelain tea mug as she stared blankly at the person sitting across from her, "Are you sure it wasn't someone else?" She asked hesitantly, a quake in her voice that normally wasn't there.

Jimena, sent her a look of pity, "As your best friend, I don't want it to be true either Serena," She paused and took a small sip from her latte, "But as your current Magna Mater…" She shook her head and exhaled sadly, "I saw what I saw."

Serena had ditched her second hour to meet up with Jimena for coffee at a local café after receiving an urgent text message from her best friend in the middle of class. After hearing what her friend had to say, however, she was now finding herself desperately wishing she had gone to pre calculus instead.

"But," Serena tried desperately to quell the sensation of anxiety that was boiling in her stomach, "You hate Stanton." She accused weakly.

Jimena gave an uneasy smile, "I'm not going to argue that, but Serena I know that _you _like him. I was willing to move passed it, as long as he didn't pose a threat," Her dark eyes glinted dangerously for a moment, "Unfortunately, according to my vision this morning, he's now a danger to you, Catty, Vanessa, and myself."

Serena's nervous quirk soon manifested itself as her tongue barbell clashed against her teeth loudly, "He wouldn't do that though…there's no way-"

"Serena." Jimena's tone held such finality and concern that Serena felt her rebuttal die on her tongue, "I'm not going to stand on the sidelines and watch my friends get hurt when I can prevent it." Her voice dropped so low Serena had to strain to hear her, "Not again."

Serena winced sadly when her mind inadvertently traveled back to Tianna's ascension as a Guardian. Despite that the transition was a possibility for all of them, it still stung the Daughters when they thought of their beautiful friend's untimely departure from the earth. Jimena especially had a hard time dealing with this after the return of her memories. A tiny, sad frown crossed Serena's face when she thought of her tough, protective, and incomparably stubborn friend.

"Jimena, your visions have mislead you before," Serena opted, still trying to find a loophole in Jimena's somewhat infallible gift.

Jimena nodded, "True, but until I can clearly decipher it, we're going to…" She looked away from Serena's pleading stare, "We're going to have to start treating Stanton as a potential enemy."

Serena felt something inside of her crumble slightly. She loved Stanton, she honestly did, but she'd be lying if she said that she had never considered the possibility that he may one day cross her over. A shaky sigh passed through her lips as her grip on the mug tightened, ripples forming in the center of the brown liquid. If what Jimena said came true…where would that leave her? Stanton? Their relationship?

"I'll be careful," She whispered brokenly, knowing that for now, it was all she could do to appease both her surrogate sister and her boyfriend.

Jimena looked at her with a mix of protectiveness and pity, before she resolutely stood up, "You're seeing him tonight, right?"

Serena nodded, still staring at the brown reflection within her tea cup.

"Promise me you won't let him persuade you into doing something you'll regret," Jimena demanded sternly.

She shook her head as if to clear all the bad thoughts from her mind, "Your vision is wrong, Jimena. There's no way Stanton could do that…" _To me._

Jimena frowned, and her posture straightened rigidly as her arms crossed over her chest, "I've seen him crossing someone over before, Serena, and that turned out to be true." There was the tinniest tick in her jaw, "Don't let your love blind you Serena, I don't want you turning out like one of this silly little girls who dedicate everything to their man."

Something bitter made its way into Serena's mouth, "I'm not being blinded, I'm just giving him the benefit of the doubt- there's nothing wrong with that!" She said darkly.

Jimena, realizing that her words may have come off a bit harsh, softened her glare, "Serena, I just don't want you to get hurt. None of us do."

Serena gnawed on her lower lip, "Do Catty and Vanessa know?"

She shook her head, "Not yet. I wanted you to hear it first."

Serena exhaled slowly through her nostrils, trying to stifle the defensive streak within her, "Thank you." She said softly.

Jimena glanced at the clock on the café wall, then back to her friend, "Are you going to be alright?" She asked seriously.

Serena was silent for a moment too long for Jimena's comfort, but she replied, "Yeah, I'll be fine."

Jimena scrutinized the telepath for a few seconds before giving a small nod, "Ok, I'll see you later then?"

She gave another defeated nod.

Jimena started to walk away, before hesitating slightly, "If it makes any difference," She tried to amend awkwardly, "I'm hoping I'm wrong too."

Serena felt a flicker of hope at that statement, knowing how much Jimena disliked Stanton. A tiny, but earnest, smile crawled up her face, "Thank you, Jimena."

Jimena returned it, "_De nada._" She swore slightly when she realized how fast the time was flying, "I got to go, if I'm late again I'm dropped from my history class." She apologized, downing the remainder of her drink quickly before tossing it in a waste bin. "Take care, and I'll see you in fourth hour!" She said with a forced cheerfulness, before practically sprinting out of the café's exits.

Serena, alone now, returned to dejectedly staring at her mug. The brown color kept capturing her attention, and she found herself slowly losing her mind to daydreams- anything to distract her from Jimena's warning about Stanton.

OoO

Zahi comfortably jammed his hands in his pockets as he slowly walked down the darkened street. He had spent the afternoon doing quick caricatures of people in the park for some extra pocket money, and was just heading back to his apartment as the sun fell. Despite having vast amounts of cash, in a variety of currencies, saved from his years as a powerful Follower, he couldn't help but feel that it would be in his best interest to save his funds and live frugally. The result of this was living in a rundown living complex and selling his personal sketches.

There were worse fates, however, and Zahi didn't mind having to actually _earn _his income for once.

His shoes, well-worn motorcycle boots, were heavy on the ground, and the eerily calm feeling that surrounded him was only amplified by the echoing sounds they made with each step. Even though he was a liberated human, Zahi couldn't help how his eyes scanned his surroundings with a strong sense of paranoia. Sadly, he mused whether this sensation was a stigma of some sorts that would haunt him for the rest of his now mortal days.

The sound of a twig quietly snapping made he whirl quickly around, a hand straying towards the inside of his boot where he hid a small pocketknife. His tension dissolved when he saw who it was standing behind him with an all too innocent look her face.

"Morgan," He grunted with irritation, "What are you doing?"

The girl smiled, a vacancy in her eyes as she leaned casually against a streetlight, "Taking a walk," She said with far too much flippancy.

"You were following me," He quickly corrected, still slightly on edge, "Why?"

She tilted her head in an almost childlike manner, "Just making sure you had a roof over your head, that's all," She eyed the surrounding neighborhood with a slight bit of disgust, "Apparently it's not a great one."

Zahi's eyes narrowed, "It suits me." Was all he said bluntly.

Morgan began to pick at her pristinely manicured fingernails, "Leaving the Atrox doesn't mean you have to leave your standards behind as well," She commented snidely, crossing one long, tanned leg in front of the other.

Zahi rose an eyebrow, despite himself a bit amused, "I don't believe you knew me well enough before to judge my standards."

Morgan rolled her crystal blue eyes, "Zahi, please." She said, pushing herself off and walking over to him. Zahi resisted the urge to take a quick step backwards, "They _had _to be higher than this."

Zahi fell quiet and stared at the girl he had crossed over. The main reason for his uneasiness around her was the obvious sense of guilt he felt whenever he saw her eyes as coldly empty as his had once been. Despite her incessant attempts to bring him back to the Atrox, Zahi felt pity for the teenager as well as a sense of sympathy for her loneliness. It was all too apparent to him that Morgan was somewhat a stray dog in the world of the Followers, now that Cassandra had been outcasted and Karyl had vanished.

"What do you want Morgan?" He asked, his tone a bit gentler than it had been in previous encounters.

Morgan seemed to pick up on his sudden softness, for her eyes widened marginally, "Just to talk," She said easily enough.

Zahi exhaled, "Go home, Morgan."

Morgan's lips pursed in irritation, "Why are you always so desperate to ship me off? I would think that someone as lonesome as you would appreciate company."

His stare seemed to go right through her as he said levelly, "I'm not the only one who's alone, Morgan."

Her next words were abrupt to downplay his uncomfortable insight, "I think you just don't like being confronted with your darker side."

Zahi's face twisted with shame, and his fist clenched slightly, "Perhaps." He agreed hesitantly, which yet again seemed to put the Follower girl on her toes, "It's not a fond memory."

"But it _could _be," Morgan prompted, seeing an opening as she linked her arm through his. Zahi stiffened uncomfortably at the contact, but Morgan pressed on, "You were powerful, Zahi. As strong as Stanton, without any reservations, you could become stronger."

The boy gingerly removed her grasp, "Being strong is worthless unless you have something to be strong for." His stare darkened sadly, repressed memories starting to bubble towards the surface, "When the Atrox gives you its power, it takes away your soul in return." He stared at Morgan with such understanding that she actually took a step backwards, "I apologize for making you suffer such a fate."

Morgan gave a snort of disdain, "I _like _being a Follower, Zahi. You did too, otherwise you wouldn't be so wary towards me."

He froze, genuinely confused, "What do you mean?"

Her mouth tilted into a catty smile, "Temptation is something everyone tries to ignore. The more distance you put between what you want, the more you crave it." She paused, and took another step closer towards him, "You're afraid of what you want, Zahi. So you avoid it."

Her words hit a little closer to home than what he was comfortable with, and across his mind ran the image of bright green eyes. He shivered, and shook his head as if to shake loose his bad thoughts and Morgan's observations, "What do you want?" He asked for the second time that night.

She laughed, a hollow sound, "For you to stop denying what you are and return to the Atrox. But for now…" She leaned against him, and he found himself a bit uncomfortable with the sudden warmth of her body heat, "Let's get some coffee."

Zahi stared at her incredulously, "Coffee?" He deadpanned.

She began to gently pull him along down the street, and Zahi found his feet unwittingly following her, "Coffee. After all, there's nothing wrong with two people being alone together." She whispered, and for an instance, Zahi almost saw passed the façade she had surrounded herself with.

He exhaled, and knew instantly he was going to regret this, "Coffee would be acceptable."

**OoO**

**Up Next: **Serena's date with Stanton and Jimena's warning.


	5. 5

_Cognoscente_

_AN: _Since _Night's Children _is sort of on hold, I'm going to be spending most of my efforts on finishing this so updates should be happening a bit more frequently : )

**5.**

The spoon landed with a dull clang as the teen's grimy fingers set it down on the table after stirring milk into his coffee. He cautiously lifted the mug up to his lips, surveying the person across from him carefully as he did so. Morgan appeared oblivious, a dazed look in her blue eyes as she stared blankly out into space.

"I'll be honest," He spoke calmly, "I had expected there to be a bit more conversation on your end. Normally I'm the only one that broods."

Morgan blinked rapidly and jerked to a start, and for a moment there was even an endearing blush spreading across her cheeks. Zahi would have thought the action was cute, had it not vanished almost instantly to be replaced by the phony mask, "I'm not brooding."

Zahi gave the smallest of knowing smiles, "My mistake then."

The blonde scoffed in agreement, turning her head to look out the window, "I'm just amazed that you actually came here with me." She admitted, her food had remained untouched throughout the evening. Zahi had only ordered coffee.

"Why?" Zahi pressed for the sake of conversation, the silence between them was a bit too stifling, and when there was nothing else to concentrate on, his eyes would search hers for yellow.

"You're kind of a cold bastard sometimes," She said with a roll of her shoulders.

Zahi gave an uncomfortable cough, surprised but amused by her candidness, "I thought you liked the reserved type," He countered, remembering one of their prior conversations.

There was a playfulness entering Morgan's eyes, "So now you're trying to get me to like you?"

Zahi fell silent then, and his lips pursed. Finally, he muttered, "I would like to be your friend, Morgan."

He could feel her eyes on him, even though his head had lowered to stare at his reflection in the coffee cup, "I think we both know I'm not looking for friendship."

A frown was settling upon his features, "That's unfortunate."

Something indiscriminate flashed across her face before she projected a laugh, "I'm a patient girl, Zahi."

He inwardly sighed. The word 'patient' did not exactly match up with his impression of the pushy, manipulative blonde. "I find that very difficult to believe."

Morgan winked, "Then I look forward to proving you wrong."

Zahi felt himself become a bit uncomfortable then as silence blanketed the pair, he wasn't used to people being this forward and upcoming about their intentions and it unnerved him. However, he could sense that underneath the several superficial layers, there was a person who was remarkably similar to himself.

It would just take quite a while to find her.

Zahi shook his head, if he wanted a second chance, surely Morgan merited consideration as well. He took a sip of his drink, "I think you'll find that I am far more persevering than you give me credit for."

She giggled, "And I'm far more stubborn than you give me credit for." The girl absently twirled a piece of hair around her finger, the unsettled look about her indicating she was hesitating saying something.

"What is it?" Zahi asked, disliking the uneasy feeling she was projecting.

Her stare connected with his, and if he looked close enough, Zahi could see the slightest undertones of pleading, "Why won't you go back to the Atrox, Zahi?"

He tried desperately to smother the feelings of disappointment that were emerging, "I don't want to talk about the Atrox tonight, Morgan." He said with an unusual amount of force.

Morgan's fingers clenched the fabric of the skirt over her thighs, "Why can't you see-"

"I don't want to continue this conversation," His words held finality, "And if you insist upon it, I'm going to leave."

Her protests seemed to die on her tongue as she stared at him in consideration, trying to see if it was an empty threat or not. The quiet quickly became far too awkward, and Zahi was taking that as an indication to leave. Carefully, he fished out some money for the coffee, and began to pull on his jacket.

Just as he was about to exit the diner, he heard a weak voice call out from behind him.

"Have you read any good books lately?" Morgan whispered uncomfortably, preparing herself for his rejection.

Zahi halted his step and slowly turned around, a tiny real smile on his face. Morgan tried to mimic the gesture, but failed miserably. However, her eyes seemed to brighten when Zahi returned to sit across from her.

**---**

She couldn't take it anymore.

It was quite possibly the most romantic setting ever, his hand was in hers, the night sky was clear and lovely over the beach, he was smiling at her handsomely and she _just couldn't take it anymore. _Every time she tilted her head up to look at him, or to go in for a kiss, she heard Jimena's warnings echoing throughout her skull. The reservation, however slight, was enough to make her uncomfortable and she felt herself slowly pulling away from him.

Stanton wasn't slow on the uptake, and he stared down at her, "What's going on?" He asked, his voice low and tinged with concern.

Serena gave a half mustered smile, fingers fidgeting while placing her hair behind her ears, "It's nothing," She mumbled, not even convincing herself with the lie.

Stanton stayed silent, indicating that he was expecting a bit more with her response as he features became solemn.

The telepath sighed and she ungracefully plopped down on the beach, her hand tugging Stanton down after her. He sent her a bemused glance.

"Was that entirely necessary?" He asked with a sort of forced brevity in his tone, a thumb running over her knuckles smoothly.

Serena gave an impish grin, "I suppose not." It was quiet and Serena was struggling with the words that were threatening to escape her tongue. Her mind replayed towards Jimena's warning, and she felt a sour sensation in her tongue, especially when she stared at her boyfriend across from him.

"Serena?" Stanton prodded carefully, not sure what was making his girlfriend so anxious.

Serena sighed and steeled herself for the upcoming conversation. It was now or never, "Has…has there been anything going on with the Followers lately?" She questioned weakly.

Stanton stared at her levelly, trying to interpret the meaning behind the question. The desire to rifle through her mind was tempting, but he had long ago shut off those impulses and had henceforth been reduced to trying to understand the unspoken questions his girlfriend asked, "Nothing to do with the Daughters." He said quietly, a hand going up to cup the side of Serena's face.

She placed her own hand over his, relishing in the warmth and comfort it provided. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment as she attempted to shut off all the other externalities in her life. For a second, it was just a girl and a boy and she was reluctant to let the opportunity slip through her fingers.

Of course, all things must eventually come to an end and after a minute she quietly stated, "Jimena had a vision."

The hand against Serena's face fell limp, but didn't let go of her fingers, "What kind of vision?" Stanton asked directly. His face fell when he heard the incriminating 'tick' of Serena's barbell against her teeth, something she always did when uncomfortable. "About me, then?"

Serena gave a hesitant nod, "She saw…" Serena couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. But she pressed forward, if for no other reason than to voice her own doubts and hopefully have them absolved, "She saw you crossing me over."

The warmth in Stanton's hand began to grow clammy as he mulled this over, and when he spoke, he was staring at the sand underneath his feet, "She must be mistaken."

Serena nodded slowly, trying desperately to believe that her friend's ineffable power had shortcomings. "Yeah."

Stanton looked up at her, and his piercing blue eyes seemed to go straight through her, "I would never do that to you, Serena." _Not unless you wanted me to._

She gave his hand a squeeze and tried to muster up a smile despite it all, "I know." _I know that you'd regret it if you did…_

Carefully, she felt Stanton wrap an arm around her shoulders as he looked out at the ocean. She gingerly placed her head against his chest, a smooth, tranquil feeling overcoming her when she heard his heart thud in her ear. The sensation of being protected and warm was enough for her to shove back her concerns, and it was just _so _nice being held that nothing bad could ever happen while she was with him.

After a few moments, she felt his lips against her hair, "I'll take you home, it's getting late."

Serena felt the yawn bubble up from her throat and she gave an awkward chuckle, "Ok."

The ride home was comfortable, and by the time the had said their goodnights and given each other a kiss, Serena felt her fears being replaced by a sense of elation that made it much easier to get to sleep than she had anticipated.

When she woke up the next morning, she was greeted by a hollow feeling as her eyes rested on her backwards-turned clock. Quickly, she jumped out of bed with a panicky movement, and when she saw the folded up note on her dresser she was surprised enough to cover her mouth with her hand.

Stanton was gone.

**---**

It seems a little bit rushed right now, I'll admit, but give Nymmie some patience because things are going to fall into place : )

Next update is dependent on how nice my boss is this week lol.


	6. 6

_Cognoscente_

_AN: _I decided to update this before I retreat into my underground bunker to hide from the HP7 spoilers. Hope you like it and thanks for the reviews!

**6.**

"What do you mean, 'gone'?" Catty asked over the clothing rack as she rifled through some mark downs, an intense look of concentration etched on her face.

Serena stood to her side, her face pale and her fingers continuously flexing uncomfortably, "He left a note." Her voice was a bit raspy, and her friend didn't miss it.

Today was Saturday, three days after discovering the note, and despite Serena's desolate mood, she had been dragged along with the other Daughters for an impromptu shopping spree at the markets. Vanessa and Jimena had gone back to try on some things, so for the moment it was just her and the time traveler.

"Are you sure it was from him?" Catty questioned shrewdly as her hands landed on an embroidered vest. Absently, she pressed it up against herself and shifted a bit in front of a mirror.

Serena nodded, her mind far too distracted to realize that her friend seemed rather preoccupied herself, "It was his handwriting." She cringed, and finally admitted, "I told him about Jimena's vision."

Catty's fingers fell limp, and the vest clattered to the ground as she turned to face her friend. Serena was a bit surprised to see genuine anger in her eyes, "You told him?" She asked crossly.

She blinked, "Of course I told him. He has a right-"

Catty paled, "No, Serena. He doesn't. Jimena gets visions for _our _protection, and when you give the enemy-"

"He's not an enemy!" Serena yelled suddenly, loud enough to attract the attention of several people in the area.

Of course, Jimena and Vanessa chose that moment to show up, several garments draping over their arms as Jimena placed her hands on her hips and stared at the pair pointedly.

"What's going on?" She asked sharply, glance darting from Catty to Serena.

"We could hear you from the fitting rooms," Vanessa admitted worriedly.

Catty stared at Serena, who still seemed a bit frazzled, and looked at Jimena, the now proclaimed leader of the other three girls, "Nothing." She mumbled, absently going back to looking at clothes.

Jimena obviously didn't buy it, for she rounded on her best friend, "Serena?"

She swallowed thickly, and for a moment it felt as if her tongue had lodged in her throat. She inhaled and calmly faced Jimena and Vanessa, "Stanton…" She shook her head, "Forget about it." She said a bit bitterly.

Vanessa seemed to pick up on the tension immediately because she quickly took up the role of pacifier, "Serena, what's going on with Stanton?"

Serena bit back the nasty comment that was building in her mind and instead plastered on the best fake smile she could conjure, "Nothing is going on. I'm just tired, I've had a lot of schoolwork." She lied through her teeth, and it was obvious that her closest friends were too wary to press her for more information, even though Catty was scowling at a perfectly innocent skirt.

Jimena continued to glare at Serena, yet she didn't say anything, not wanting to badger Serena even if she thought it would be for her own well-being.

"Well," Vanessa cleared her throat awkwardly, picking up two slinky dresses, "Which one should I wear for tonight's concert?"

Immediately the awkwardness was dissolved into a false sense of security as Catty quickly put in her input, Jimena slowly contributing as well. Only Serena remained silent as she stared at the floor.

Her friends didn't trust Stanton. They wouldn't be willing to help her look for him as much as she hated to admit it. They were like sisters, but her boyfriend was something they could never see eye to eye on. Not that the telepath could blame them, Stanton had betrayed their trust before, and had never fully earned Jimena's or Catty's to begin with. Serena was on her own if she was going to start looking for her boyfriend.

Would she look for him? The note he had left behind was cryptic, only saying some asinine apology and a scrawled signature. It left no clues…no feelings. She had to consider the possibility that Stanton didn't want to be found.

The concept made something twist in her stomach. Why would he run from her? Because of Jimena's warning? But that wasn't like him. Something was going on, something much grander than Stanton had led Serena to believe and she could feel her doubts festering inside of her mind.

However, they were easy to push aside when she thought about what Stanton had given up for her. He had sacrificed his hope to save her from Lambert, risked his life just to be with her. If he was running, there was a damn good reason for it. She couldn't lose faith in the immortal Prince that easily.

"Serena?" Vanessa prompted from her unusually silent friend.

Serena looked up, and the three girls saw something dangerous flicker in her eyes before it was replaced with a fake smile and false cheery tone, "Nothing. You should wear the purple one."

Vanessa blinked slowly, before a hesitant smile crept up her face, "You're right, I like this one better." She then proceeded to engage Catty in a conversation about Michael's latest water polo match, the latter girl sending Serena a suspicious look.

Jimena also picked up on the uneasy vibe around Serena, "What's bothering you?" She pressed.

Serena grinned, "Nothing."

The ex gangster continued to eye her, "You're not planning on doing something stupid, are you?"

She faltered a bit, but tried her best at giving a nonchalant shrug, "Not unless you count trying to get Colin to put down the surfboard and help me clear out the garage this afternoon."

A wave of uneasiness flickered over Jimena's face, before she plastered on her own fake smirk, "I'll come over later to help you. Don't want to trust Colin to be reliable," she joked about her boyfriend.

Serena smiled, "That'd be a lot of help, thanks."

"It's nothing," Jimena said.

"It's a date. Just you, Colin, and the inevitable third wheel," Serena said liltingly.

Jimena gave a forced chuckle and then joined in on Vanessa and Catty's conversation.

She was relieved that Jimena didn't seem to intuitively pick up on Serena's thinly veiled lie.

Serena wasn't planning on being home by the time Jimena got there.

She was going to go look for Stanton.

---

"Absolutely not," the young man said as his eyes zeroed in on the sketchpad lying across his lap.

"Why not?" Pouted the girl to his side, cradling her cheek on her hand.

"It's the equivalent of a bleeding person swimming with sharks," he continued, carefully shading in the image of a crying little girl feeding ducks.

"Zahi it's not going to be that bad. Besides, you need to get out more." She pressed peering over his shoulder to watch the work in progress.

"Morgan, that area of town is infested with Followers, do you really think so little of my intellect?" He drawled as the finishing touches were placed on his drawing.

She huffed, leaning back and tapping a foot impatiently against the ground, "Why are you scared of them?"

He actually looked up from his work to send her a deadpan stare that seemed to convey his irritation at the statement louder than any words could.

Her nose wrinkled, "Fine. You have every right to be a chicken shit-"

"There's really no need for such a crass term."

"-but the fact remains that you won't be able to cower in the background forever. Sooner or later some cocky shit Follower with something to prove is going to look for the once almighty Zahi in order to stake a name for himself," Morgan countered.

He arched a slender eyebrow, "For a novice, you seem to pick up on the intricate politics of the Followers quite easily." He commented drolly, obviously not taking her bait. "We were enjoying a peaceful afternoon, why do you insist upon ruining it?"

She snorted angrily, crossing her slender arms over her chest and looking the other direction. After a few seconds of stretched silence, she finally muttered, "I don't want to go alone."

Zahi once again turned to face her, "Pardon me?"

She rolled her eyes, embarrassed but hiding it behind attitude, "I was invited by an immortal. They expect me to show up and I don't want to go there alone."

He pursed his lips, "Who invited you?"

"Yvonne. She says I have potential, whatever that means," Morgan said, nervously twisting a tendril of honey colored hair around a delicate finger.

He turned back to his drawing, "I don't think you should go at all." He suggested calmly, "The Fourth Wall is a dangerous club, far more so than The Dungeon."

"You think I don't know that, Zahi?" She said, anxiety making her slightly short tempered, "But you can't flat out refuse someone as strong as Yvonne. She's expecting me, and if I don't show I'm ruined."

"If you show up with me, you'll be in even more trouble," he commented blithely, flipping the page over and starting on a new work.

"Not if they think I'm trying to convert you."

He chuckled, "The truth emerges at last."

Morgan's voice picked up an extra few grams of sugar, "Zahi, it's really a win-win situation. Followers will back off if they think you're with me, and I'll get some protection and credibility."

The lead of the pencil snapped off as Zahi applied too much pressure, "You seem to be forgetting that I was getting along quite fine before you came along, Morgan."

"You call this fine?" She said condescendingly, "You're wearing hand-me-downs from some Salvation Army store and they _reek._ You do nothing but mope and hide out, hoping that no one will notice you as you draw your quite frankly depressing pictures."

"…Surely your flattery knows no bounds."

She made some indeterminate noise of frustration, "You're impossible, you know that?"

He smirked, "I'm not the one who's stubbornly pestering a person who does nothing but mope."

When he suddenly felt her lean against him, his breath faltered and the hand on the pencil went slack. Her fingers began to play with the longer hairs at the back of his neck as she murmured into his ear.

"Please, Zahi? Just go with me. It won't kill you."

Gingerly, he placed his hand over hers and removed it, "That's precisely what I'm afraid of Morgan."

She scowled, "You know, any other red-blooded male would have been putty by now."

"Someone's slightly egotistical."

She snorted, as her blue eyes stared at the ground and she gave a breathy sigh, "What if I promised no tricks?"

"I would find such a promise unlikely," Zahi muttered as he began to sketch the outline for a bird with broken wings.

"What if I meant it?"

Suddenly, the entire tone of the conversation shifted and Zahi once again made eye contact with the teenager. There was honesty in her words, and he was, needless to say, shocked.

"Why?" He posed carefully.

Morgan began to pick at her fingernails as a sign of nervousness, "I like you Zahi. Really, I do. And…I don't have anyone else."

He scoffed, "So I'm just a last resort then?"

She glared at him, and Zahi was slightly taken aback by the sincerity in the action, "I'm not the only one using a Plan B, Zahi. I know why you let me hang around."

He felt the tinniest bit of guilt at that declaration, knowing it was true. He sighed, and flipped the cover of his sketchbook closed. "Why am I suddenly regretting getting coffee with you on Wednesday?"

She smiled, "You're impervious to my charm, Zahi. Admit it."

He shook his head, "I'll go for an hour. After that I can't guarantee my own safety."

She positively beamed at him, and Zahi saw a flicker of the bubbly girl she used to be before he converted her. After only a second's hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him. "Thanks Zahi!"

He sighed sadly, before half-heartedly returning the embrace.

---

**Next: **Serena and Zahi interaction! (Readers: FINALLY!)


	7. 7

_Cognoscente_

**AN: **Hey there. Long time, no update. Sorry, but I've had major writer's block for this story : ( But since I'm planning on retiring from fanfic, I'm going to finish this thing. And hopefully soon : D

**7.**

He wasn't immune to the wide-eyed stares and the dropping jaws as he allowed himself to be escorted by Morgan towards the front of the club. Said blonde was clinging to his arm, also noticing the attention and completely reveling in it. Zahi continued to hunch his shoulders, a physical sign of his mental want to curl up into a ball and hide. Whispers, spoken and unspoken, drifted through the air as the Followers and Initiates in front of The Fourth Wall began to put a name to the face.

"Is that-?"

"I thought he was dead-"

"Didn't the Atrox disown him-?"

"He looks good-"

"Who's the girl with him?"

"Shelooks good too-"

"Yvonne's going to freak."

Morgan giggled charmingly, even having the cheeky audacity to wave at a few of the gawkers who scowled at her. Zahi mimicked their expressions.

"It's bad enough that you have me here, must you draw even more excessive amounts of attention to us?"

She winked, "Zahi, it's what I do."

His frown grew.

Several people were littered outside of the club's entrance, smoking or waiting in line for admittance. All of them had yellow, glowing eyes. Well, all of them except for one who stood out like a very sore thumb. It wasn't long before he began to feel the caresses across his mind from female, and the occasional male, Follower- all urging him closer and closer to his repressed dark side. There was an uncomfortable stirring within him, and Zahi found himself beginning to grow lax in the hostile company. There was a start of something sinister, something Zahi thought he had finally rid himself.

"I can't go in there," he said with finality, beginning to pry away from her.

Morgan only clutched on to him tighter, "You _promised,_" she hissed, nails digging into his arm.

He glared at her, "You should know by now not to trust my promises." He tried to wrench away, but she was persistent.

"They'll eat me alive in there, don't you care?"

There it was again, that self-acrimonious flicker of guilt. Zahi sighed, and took a deep breath. The mental turmoil was visible on his face and he wanted nothing more than to sprint towards the nearest taxi. But he could see the pinched, panicky expression on Morgan's previously giddy face and he hated to admit that he couldn't just leave her to the sharks.

"Half an hour," he amended.

"You promised an hour-"

"Half an hour." His tone was colder now, and left no room for arguments. Morgan's face fell, knowing there was no protest that could work.

"Fine," she said sourly in defeat.

The not-quite couple strolled up into the entrance, where a flabbergasted bouncer let them in without a word, staring at Zahi in supreme disbelief. Morgan smirked.

"Having you wrapped around my finger has its advantages-"

The glare he sent her made her blood run cold and her tongue fall silent. "It'll be fine," she said quickly with forced encouragement, "It's just a club."

"Just a club full of hope-sucking Followers," he said dryly, "No worries at all."

She playfully nudged her elbow into his side, "Lighten up Zahi." She quieted as they entered The Fourth Wall and a wicked smile crawled up her face, "Let's dance," she said, stretching her body sensually and dragging a reluctant Zahi out onto the floor.

---

If they found her, she was dead. More than dead. Buried six feet under and rotting dead. It wasn't everyday that a chosen Daughter of the Moon decided for a night out in a Follower club, but Serena was pleased to notice that so far she had managed to keep a low profile.

The club, some place called The Fourth Wall, held an established reputation for being a rowdy Follower hotspot, and Serena had reluctantly decided to start her investigation there for Stanton after a quick trip to The Dungeon failed to produce any leads. Despite the dozens of girls wearing mini skirts and tube tops, Serena was decked out in a pair of sweatpants and a plain tank top. She didn't want to attract any attention to herself, but despite her rather drab clothes she could steal feel stares on the back of her head. She sighed, weaving her body and mind through the crowd.

So far, the thoughts of the Followers had held nothing about Stanton, and she was beginning to grow flustered. However, she managed to snag a thought about halfway through the air that made her foot pause in its step.

_-Yvonne is going to bring those bitch goddesses down for good._

Serena's eyes widened behind her thick plastic glasses, and her head whipped around, trying to locate the source of the thought. It was almost impossible, she was surrounded by telepaths, all of which could easily mask their thoughts from her. She growled under her breath, practically swimming through the throngs of dancing teenagers. She opened up her mental channels to pick up thoughts concerning the blonde Immortal as well.

_-I'm so nervous, Yvonne's going to kill me-_

_-Yvonne est sinistre, Morgan est un espece de idiote especial._

Serena's felt her breath catch in her throat, that sounded…French. That sounded familiar. That sounded like-

"Zahi, I know you're a better dancer than this!" Came a very familiar pouting voice, and Serena swerved on her heel and her jaw dropped when she spied a dancing couple not a few feet from her.

Morgan was pressed against Zahi tightly, her movements slinky and slow as she seductively smiled up at the brunette. Zahi remained tight-faced, obviously uncomfortable, but he was dancing in step with her, his movements calculated and rigid as opposed to fluid and natural like Morgan's. He seemed out of place.

Not that Serena noticed any of that. She felt something heavy in her stomach as she watched the scene with barely repressed horror. If Zahi was here, with Morgan, then that meant that…

She felt almost sick with herself when she thought about how this could have possibly been her fault. Zahi had approached her a few times with nothing but friendly intentions, and she had shied away from him. Had he been calling out for help? Had her hesitance to get into a relationship, platonic or otherwise, with him driven him towards someone like Morgan? Was she to blame if he was a Follower again?

Steel flashed behind her self-guilt, and she tensed, walking forward. Personal grudges and reluctance be damned, she was a Daughter of the Moon and she was _not _going to let _Morgan _of all people take Zahi away from her.

She paused, blinking slowly. She was going to protect an innocent, that was all. She wasn't going to let a _Follower _take Zahi away from hope. She nodded inwardly, thinking that wording sounded better in her mind.

She was a few steps away when she felt a clammy hand lock around her wrist from behind. She whirled on her step and felt her jaw drop when she noticed who had grabbed her. "Karyl," she hissed hatefully.

He leered at her, snake like features being shadowed in the poor lighting, "Hey babe, what's a little goddess like you doing in a place like this?"

"Get the hell away from me."

"Angry tonight I see," he leaned forward, a wicked grin on his features, "I bet Yvonne would _love _to see you."

She panicked, and her gaze went from Karyl's face towards over to Zahi and Morgan. She felt her heart stop when she noticed that Zahi was looking back at her, a terror-stricken expression on his face.


	8. 8

_Cognoscente_

**AN: **Hey look, I updated in less than two months. Does this mean I get a cookie or something? XD

**8.**

It was a certainly bizarre feeling when one was dancing with a ridiculously cute boy, to have that ridiculously cute boy suddenly become nothing but air. Morgan was able to witness this strange phenomena first hand, as her dancing partner, and if she was honest, protection really, vanished while she was mid-dip. Startled, Morgan lost her balance and toppled backwards, her barely clad butt collapsing against the dance floor.

"What the hell?" She growled, tossing golden tendrils of hair away from her face. Morgan was not used to being dropped, especially when she was wearing an outfit like this. "Zahi!" She snarled impatiently, gingerly rubbing her bottom and standing up again, whirling around in search of the ex Immortal. "Zahi?" Her angered tone faded to be replaced with concern when she failed to locate him.

After a few seconds, however, she noticed that there was a definite parting of the sea taking place among the party-goers of The Fourth Wall.

"Zahi," she muttered in exasperation through her teeth when she saw his long, dark hair, surging through the crowd determinedly towards something. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to see what could have distracted her to such a point-

Her face fell in shock, and something that looked slightly like disappointment, when she realized what, _who, _Zahi was so gung-ho to see.

"Serena," she whispered, rubbing her arms self-consciously. If Serena was here, it meant big trouble for Zahi. Especially knowing how much of an idiot the man was for the born again deity. Morgan chewed her lower lip nervously, something again to a conscience tugging at the back of her mind. She couldn't just let Zahi make a target out of himself, especially when he shouldn't really even be here in the first place.

The fact that _she _was royally screwed if he was destroyed didn't hurt the argument much.

With a brief mental struggle, she stomped her shiny, stiletto boot against the ground before storming after him in a huff, the crowd wisely parting for her as well.

---

Serena struggled as nonviolently as she could against Karyl's grip on her wrist, her mental barriers already ensuring that Karyl's dirty thoughts didn't go any further than his own head. His fingers were cold and clammy against her skin, and he kept maneuvering his head, obviously trying to get and maintain eye contact with the Daughter who was flailing like a wildcat. Fortunately for her, most modern dance moves appeared to be a form of flailing, so she drew no extra attention to herself.

Little did she know, however, that the attention she did draw was going to be more than enough.

"You're making me think you don't like me," Karyl purred in mock sadness, his grip tightening to the point where her fingertips were starting to turn purple. She scowled, and reached for the amulet that was hidden underneath her shirt, hoping the light in his eyes would be enough to distract him-

However, Karyl was quicker than she had anticipated, and his other hand quickly caught hers, "Play fair," he chastised, looking up and searching the crowd, more than likely for Yvonne.

"You're going to miss that hand," Serena said darkly, finally fed up with the passive resistance and now attempting to drive an elbow into Karyl's solar plexus. He twisted out of the way, his lanky build affording him agility and speed. She growled in frustration, her features contorting between panic and pain.

Karyl's attention was completely focused on searching for Yvonne and Serena, and the little expectancy of a third party interference left him very, very vulnerable to the solid left hook that quickly connected with his jaw line. His head snapped back, as his hold on Serena broke and his balance faltered, causing him to take a few steps back dazedly.

Serena blinked owlishly, not quite sure what had just happened, slowly, she turned her head and was only mildly surprised to see Zahi standing there. Long dark hair framed his face dangerously, and his breathing was labored with suppressed anger. He didn't even bother shaking his hand loose, as it hung tightly by his side in a still-coiled fist. He looked…deadly. Serena felt her mouth go dry when she realized that he had just saved her, something that was hard to reconcile with his wild image right now. The image that just screamed Follower. That screamed-

…that screamed Stanton, in a manner.

His dark gaze, not yellow thank Selene, drifted from the still recovering Follower to the bewildered Greek deity, "Did he hurt you?" He said, his voice surprisingly soft.

Dumbly, she shook her head.

His clenched jaw softened slightly, "Good." Then it tightened again, "What are you doing here?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, as she crossed her arms over her chest, "I could ask you the same thing."

He winced at the allegation, but his hand reached to grab hers as if on instinct. A look of shame crossed his face before he forced himself to drop it back towards his side. "You should go, things are going to get messy."

Serena stared at him, then at Karyl, who was now getting a grip on his bearings. The pieces just weren't adding up, "Zahi-"

"Zahi?!" Snarled Karyl in disbelief and anger, now that he knew the identity of his attacker. His eyes flashed yellow, and he took several threatening steps towards the pair. "Who the hell do you think you are? You're little exiled ass has no right to-"

"You have no right to touch her," Zahi said coldly, no room for argument.

Without warning, Karyl lunged at Zahi, gripping him by the collar of his shirt and slamming him against the wall. Zahi offered no resistance, merely staring at him with a look of blank disinterest. Karyl's eyes glowed poisonously, and Serena quickly moved towards Zahi's defense without thinking.

But a slim, manicured hand around Karyl's wrist got there first, "Karyl, why don't you just calm down and let my date down?" Came a practiced sugary voice, one Serena knew far too well. Her face screwed into a sour lemon expression when she saw Morgan leaning against Karyl, her ears against his lips seductively.

Karyl visibly went a bit lax, Zahi dipped a bit, his feet touching the ground, "Morgan? What are you doing here?" If Serena believed Karyl to be anything other than disgusting and perverted, she would have said there was an almost wistful tone to his query.

Zahi's face wisely remained impassive, but Morgan could pick up on his agitation from her telepathy. She smiled sultrily at Karyl, "I'm meeting Yvonne- Zahi, Serena, and I have an appointment." She lied through her perfect teeth.

He glared at her, but released his grip on Zahi, who slowly edged back towards Serena protectively, not sure which angle Morgan was playing, but knowing there was an angle nevertheless.

"Bullshit," Karyl said coarsely, although he seemed a bit distracted by the finger she was running across his chest, "Yvonne wouldn't let some little peon like you get any recognition."

Morgan pouted cutely, "I can be very charming when I set my mind to it Karyl," a wicked glint entered her eyes, "I'm sure you remember."

He stiffened, went lax, then straightened again, "Yvonne knows they're here?" The resolve was all but gone, and judging by both the far-away gazes in Serena and Morgan's eyes, it was being shattered the longer Morgan stood by him.

"Of course, I wouldn't be _that _stupid," she said easily, grabbing his hand and pulling him away, "And since you beat the crap out of my _old _date, you get to be my _new _one."

Karyl sighed, then smirked, allowing himself to be led, "Whatever you say Morgan."

As the Followers went out, Morgan peered over Karyl's shoulder, mouthing 'You owe me double!'.

"We need to go. Now." Zahi said calmly, although his eyes were troubled, as he gestured for Serena to go first towards the exit.

In a sort of dreamlike state due to the disbelief that Morgan could actually do something human for once, Serena followed the direction, allowing Zahi to cover her as they left The Fourth Wall.

So distracted was she with both Zahi's protective streak that had emerged and Morgan's help getting them out of the Follower club, that she didn't even realize that she had forgotten to search the place completely for clues about Stanton's disappearance.

**Up Next: **In which there is an ass chewing beyond belief, and an unlikely team up.


	9. 9

**Cognoscente**

**9.**

Serena walked awkwardly behind Zahi, whose presence seemed to expand increasingly as time passed. So far, he had remained silent as the pair exited the club, but Serena was a bit on edge. There was something off about the shy boy, something strange and foreign to her. She wasn't quite sure what it was, and as she felt the cool night air on her face when they walked outside, she braced herself for something.

She was more than surprised to see Zahi remain silent, quietly taking out his cell phone and punching a number in quickly. Without preamble, he shoved the phone at Serena's face, and dumbly, she pressed the receiver to her ear.

"Hello?" She mumbled in confusion.

"Hello, this is Yellow Cab, how can I help you?"

Serena gaped, looking at Zahi, who was faced away from her, hands jammed in his pockets. "You called me a cab?"

Zahi still remained quiet, and the cold shoulder was starting to give her a very creepy vibe, "Uh, yeah, my name's Serena and I'm at The Fourth Wall," she quickly gave the operator the address.

"Alright! A driver will be there in about ten to fifteen minutes," came the chipper voice before the line went dead. Serena uncomfortably handed the phone back to Zahi, who took it and calmly placed it back inside his jacket.

Silence reigned as Serena clutched her arms around herself in a self hug, her gaze drifting over towards Zahi in confusion. Zahi seemed preoccupied, squatting down and leaning his weight on the backs of his calves, his hands fidgeting.

Finally, she cleared her throat, daring to sit next to him on the curb, "Um…thank you." She ventured softly.

She had expected a soft 'your welcome', or more silence, what she had not expected was the way his nostrils flared and the poisonous glare that was sent in her direction.

"What were you thinking?" He demanded coldly.

Serena leaned away, "Excuse me?"

"I had the assumption that you were not a stupid girl, so what were you doing prancing around at this place? Fancy a night out? A thrill?" His words were caustic and so unfitting for him, even pre-second Cold Fire. Follower Zahi had been charming in his cruelty and manipulation, this was different. Zahi was being blunt and very, very pissed off. Serena found herself increasingly uncomfortable and even apprehensive.

"No I wasn't," her own eyes narrowed, "And I don't see how it's any of your business anyway."

He gave a scoff of derision, looking away from her in either incredulousness or hurt, "You really are naïve."

She frowned, starting to stand up, "I wasn't the only one at a Follower club!" She retorted, acid coating her tongue.

"I'm not a bloody _Daughter of the Moon,_" he said through grit teeth, standing up as well. For once, Serena was well aware of his height, as he seemed to tower over her, "You deliberately put yourself into danger, and for what-?"

"For my boyfriend!" She declared haughtily, not one to be submissive for a scolding.

Zahi's head jerked back slightly, as if from whiplash, but his jaw clenched, "Your _boyfriend _should be more concerned about your safety-"

"-Stanton just disappeared-"

"-Yvonne was here, and several other higher-ups waiting to chew you up and spit you out-"

"-and I thought I might find him here-"

"-do you know how close you were to almost getting crossed over?"

"-since I haven't heard from him at all and he could be in real danger-"

"-and you _scared the shit out of me_!"

"-and he's _scaring the shit out of me_!"

The pair both inhaled deeply at the same time, eying each other wearily as they each processed what the other had said. The way Zahi's eyes seemed to smolder made something strange in the pit of Serena's stomach flare up. While stares could be described as piercing, or cold, or intimidating, this was the first time that Serena ever felt a gaze that was downright _burning. _She shifted her weight between her legs nervously.

The fiery aspect of his gaze seemed to simmer, and once again Zahi looked like the reclusive classmate she knew, "Stanton…is missing?" When he said the name Stanton there was a lot less ire than normal in his tone.

Serena swallowed hard, "Sort of."

His eyes narrowed, "…sort of?" he repeated dully, obviously requiring elaboration.

Serena's face turned downcast, and she looked at the edges of her grubby sneakers to avoid looking at his face, "Not missing so much as left."

An eyebrow rose. Serena groaned, "There was a note." She clarified.

Silence reigned, and after a few moments, she heard him speak again. Despite being very measured and diplomatic, his words were still like a slap to the face, "If he left, with enough foresight to leave a note, perhaps he doesn't want to be found?"

Serena snarled, "That's not it at all! Stanton has this bizarre martyr complex when it comes to our relationship, more than likely he's trying to protect me by leaving?" The question at the end of the statement was not supposed to be voiced, but Zahi heard it nevertheless.

"I don't mean to sound rude-"

"Like that's going to stop you," she said flatly.

"-but if his leaving results in you frequenting The Fourth Wall, perhaps it's not exactly the best method of protection?"

Serena rolled her eyes, she hadn't been expecting this when she snuck out to the Follower club. Attacks, mind manipulation, physical harm, yes. But a _lecture? _From _Zahi?_ "Stanton would freak out if he knew I was here," she said levelly, "But that's not going to stop me. I've never been the obedient little girl and I'm certainly not going to start now."

"You're going to put yourself in deliberate danger for a boy who ran away on purpose?" Zahi asked incredulously.

"I'm going to put myself in deliberate danger for a boy that I _love._" Her mouth was in a thin line, "I don't understand why you feel the need to press your intentions somewhere they're clearly not welcome."

Zahi frowned, "If that isn't the pot calling the kettle black."

She mimicked the frown. Somehow getting the feel for what he was implying, but not quite ready to face it yet. Definitely not yet. Or ever. "Well, now you know my reasons, but why were you there Zahi?"

The look of complete honesty on his face quickly killed any blame Serena would have tossed at him, "I was watching over Morgan. She's getting in over her head and going down a dark path I know far too well." His frown deepened, "And apparently she's not the only one I'm going to have to look after."

Serena's mouth dropped open slightly, "Are you volunteering to be my babysitter?"

"More like insisting."

"I can handle myself just fine."

"Like you did tonight?" Zahi asked dryly.

Serena squirmed uncomfortably at the observation, "It was just Karyl."

"Just Karyl. Who would have taken you to Just Yvonne, and then to Just the Incinti." Zahi shook his head, "Serena, I know that you are not a foolish person, so why do you insist on acting like one?"

"I was being careful-" she defended.

"Do any of the other Daughters know that you're here?" Zahi questioned archly, clearly already knowing the answer.

Serena sighed, "They wouldn't understand. They would have-"

"What? Forbidden you to go? Been concerned?" Zahi gave a chuckle that lacked any humor, "How unreasonable of them."

She inhaled, knowing and recognizing the logic in Zahi's words. "I know what I'm doing right now seems stupid, trust me I know that at least. But if Stanton's in trouble…" she trailed off, not really wanting to go down that line of thought, "Then I would never forgive myself if I just hung on the sidelines waiting for him to return."

Zahi scowled, "And you are above asking your friends for help because…?"

"The other Daughters don't have a lot of trust in Stanton as it is. And they don't want to-"

"I wasn't talking about the other Daughters, Serena."

"Oh," Serena replied blandly, before realization hit her, "_Oh._" She repeated, looking at Zahi as if for the first time that night.

"Oh," he mimicked, and suddenly the shy aura seemed to encompass him again, "I know that we're not exactly friends, Serena, but I need you to believe that I too would not forgive myself if I sat on the sidelines while you were in danger."

Serena gnawed on her lower lip guiltily, "I can't ask you to help me, Zahi."

"I can't let you refuse my help." Zahi said, the somewhat intimidating persona of his resurfacing over the shy boy. "I am going to follow you to the ends of the earth, Serena. I have a debt to repay."

Something that felt awfully close to disappointment drifted over the telepath. How could she forget? Zahi probably felt as if he had to make amends for almost crossing her over, and protecting her on the search for Stanton was probably the best way to do so in his current- powerless- condition. Things made sense now, his resilient determination, the way his anger surfaced so clearly, of course he didn't want her disappearing or losing hope before he had a way to restore his honor. Zahi was an old-fashioned, chivalrous type, after all. He saw this as an obligation.

As she carefully formulated a response, a cab pulled up alongside the curb. Zahi slowly stretched an arm passed her and opened the door for her. She gave him a soft smile at the gesture of politeness, but her mind was troubled. Zahi could turn on her, or even worse, she could turn on Zahi, if they both underwent this scheme…

Then again, Zahi also knew the Follower hotspots, who the higher ups were, and it was a lot less suspicious if a former Immortal given hope against his will was trying to reclaim dark power than a Daughter of the Moon. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed him. And it made something flop around in her stomach queasily.

"I'm going to be at The Dungeon tomorrow at eight," she settled on at last, her voice very soft.

Something like happiness flickered across Zahi's features, before he gave a grim nod, "I will be there." He paused, debating something as she got in the cab. He appeared to decide against whatever it was that he was going to do, as he gently closed the door after her, "Be careful." She heard him whisper, before the cab vanished in the night.

---

**AN: **Author's note at the end this time! What can I say, I like to mix it up. Er, anyways, keep in mind that the way Serena views things (such as certain French/former Immortal's intentions) are not necessarily the way that they _are, _if you catch my drift ; )

Thanks to all the readers and especially those who took the time to review. It brightens my day : )


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